


(Love?) In an Elevator

by summercarntspel



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Humorous Ending, M/M, Not Totally Platonic, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Romance, Silly, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:56:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3760579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summercarntspel/pseuds/summercarntspel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While staying at a hotel after a meet-and-greet gig, one of Darren's "adventures" results in him and Chris getting stuck in an elevator. Silliness, cuddles, and bitchy!Chris follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Love?) In an Elevator

**Author's Note:**

> (Title taken from Aerosmith's "Love in an Elevator")
> 
> This idea came to me late at night and I've been slaving over it and editing it and ripping it to shreds, so I feel like I need to post it before I lose my nerve completely.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Feedback, lovelies? <3

Chris slammed his head against the wall behind him, getting a twisted sort of enjoyment out of the hollow, metallic sound the collision created, and glanced over at where his co-star sat, cross-legged, head tipped against the opposite wall, honey-colored eyes closed.

He looked like he was nearly asleep. What an _asshole._

It was supposed to be an easy little meet-and-greet gig. It was far enough away from home to require a reservation at a hotel for the night, but definitely close enough to drive back home the following day without a problem.

It was fun, too. The fans were great, as always.

The cast had gone out for dinner afterwards and, since Chris decided to room with Darren, they took turns making use of the hotel room's spacious shower and settled in for the night to watch a movie.

Or Chris thought they had settled in, anyway. Darren had other plans, it seemed, and he was roped into them.

All he wanted to do was get some decent rest for once, damn it. Was that too much to ask?

And, if Darren didn't insist on going on a late-night snack run to the 24-hour gas station market just after midnight, Chris was positive he would either be, a) sleeping peacefully in the large hotel bed, or, b) blissfully sleep-shopping on his phone.

Either way, he would be resting.

But, since Darren _did_ insist and Chris _did_ agree-because Darren had called it an adventure, which was a gross exaggeration, as far as Chris was concerned-and some deity somewhere decided they wanted to have a little fun, he and Darren were stuck inside the hotel elevator with the plastic bags sitting on the floor and a sad looking, empty cup lying next to Darren's foot.

And, if Chris's phone-which was losing battery with every passing moment, by the fucking way-was correct, it was officially two in the goddamn morning.

"I hate you," Chris muttered, slamming his head into the elevator wall again, pushing his glasses up his nose a bit more as he glared at Darren, "You just had to have your shitty gas station slushy and your midnight snack of jerky and mini doughnuts instead of walking the whole three feet to the nearest vending machine like a _normal human being_ and getting fucking _Doritos."_

Darren cracked an eye open from behind his own glasses, arching an eyebrow up, "I didn't kidnap you and make you come with me, you know. I asked if you wanted to go on an adventure and you said you were game. Besides, I even offered to get you some Diet Coke, which the vending machine doesn't have. It's not my fault you turned me down."

Letting out a noncommittal noise, Chris snatched the empty Styrofoam cup that had once held a blue raspberry slushy, digging his blunt nails into the pliant material and crushing it with his hand, his icy eyes locked on Darren's.

He rationalized that strangling the cup had to be better than strangling Darren... if only for the fact that it would take a lot less effort to explain a crushed cup than a dead actor whenever the elevator finally started working again.

...Or if it ever started again. After almost two hours of waiting, what little hope Chris had of getting any real rest before driving home was diminishing rapidly.

"I knew sharing a room with you would backfire. This is the last time I make a rooming decision based on cost and your stupid puppy-dog eyes."

Darren rolled said puppy-dog eyes, heaving a long-suffering sort of sigh before he used a teetering motion and the muscles of his ass to scoot himself closer to Chris, not pausing his awkward shuffling until their hips were pressed together, his back straight against the side of the elevator Chris had been sitting next to since they gave up on standing ten minutes in to their dilemma.

"Go to sleep. Stretch out and rest, if you want," Darren sighed, running a hand through his unruly mop of hair, "I know you're gonna be bitchy with me no matter what, but I don't think I can handle you being bitchy and exhausted both."

"If I had one of my swords with me right now, it would take a lot of restraint to refrain from jabbing it into your thigh."

Letting out a soft chuckle, Darren bobbed his head, stretching his legs out in front of him, "Exactly my point. So, rest. That might make you a little less homicidal."

Chris crossed his arms over his chest tightly, a large yawn escaping him, eyes fluttering behind the large frames of his glasses, "I never said I would kill you. A simple maiming would be perfectly okay with me. And I can't sleep in an elevator, so you're just going to have to deal,"

"Why?" Darren asked, making a show of rolling his head to the side to stare at Chris, "Just curl up and sleep. I know it's a little gross, but it's probably no worse than the beds, honestly."

Chris rolled his baby blues so hard it looked like it might have physically hurt him, lifting his hands to crack his knuckles a moment later, "I can't just sleep on the floor. I screwed my neck up at dance rehearsals the other day and it hurts enough already."

Darren pulled his knees into his chest for a moment, then pushed them back out, stretching until his toes touched the door of the elevator. Seemingly satisfied, he offered Chris a cheesy grin and patted his lap invitingly.

"You can use me as a pillow. It's the least I can do, since, as much as I want to deny it, this is my fault. And I know you say my shoulder is too-bony-but-too-muscular to make a good pillow, so I offer you my lap. I promise my thighs are an appropriate level of squishy. And, when we get out of here, I'll even give you a massage for your neck."

Chris shot Darren a skeptical look and his big doe eyes reduced themselves to little slivers of icy blue, but Darren just patted his lap again. This time, though, the motion was slower and there was more purpose behind it.

For that moment, Chris just chose to ignore the whole massage promise. That could be dealt with later.

"If you do something inappropriate to me in my sleep, I swear to God... I _WILL_ stab you with one of my swords," Chris grumbled as he leaned down, his head resting in Darren's lap and his knees coming up a bit so he could curl up like he would in bed at home, "I suppose I should thank you, but, like you said, I'm bitchy with you now, so."

A little laugh bubbled up from Darren's chest, sounding rumbly and warm and familiar to Chris, making him want to smile even though he was _supposed_ to be pissed and bitchy, damn it. One of Darren's steady hands carefully removed Chris's glasses, setting them on the floor before he began running his fingers through Chris's hair.

"This is a peace offering, so it's cool, dude. Try to get some sleep, okay?" Darren whispered, smiling sweetly down at Chris when the other man's eyes slipped closed and he pushed back against Darren's hand in his hair, arching into the touch the slightest bit.

Another wide, jaw-cracking yawn left Chris, his cheek rubbing against the soft, worn cotton of Darren's old college sweats, his breathing evening out as he relaxed.

"Maybe you aren't so bad..." Chris breathed out, sighing when Darren's hand swiped through his hair again.

Darren just nodded, a little bob of his head, and his heart swelled at Chris's adorable sleepy voice, one that he rarely got to catch unless he sneaked up on Chris while he napped in his trailer.

Deciding that he couldn't just let the opportunity run away from him, Darren began to hum a slow, gentle lullaby, whose lyrics, sadly, escaped him for the moment. Still, it did the trick, and Chris was letting out quiet, cute little snores within a few minutes.  
~  
Sometime later, although how much later he didn't really know, Chris woke up to the feeling of the floor moving below him, elevator finally rising slowly, and he became aware of a weight on his side.

Glancing towards the warm, heavy pressure on the left side of his body, Chris immediately smiled.

Darren was asleep, glasses still perched on his nose but a little askew, snoring softly. A peaceful expression was fixed on his face as he cuddled into Chris, arms wrapped tightly around Chris's middle.

And maybe Chris should have still been mad, but looking at Darren made it seem a little... petty, he supposed. So, instead, he allowed the smile to remain on his face as he gently prodded at Darren's chest with one long, pale finger.

He continued the incredibly irritating action until the other man was snorting in surprise and his eyes flashed open too quickly, bleary and unfocused.

"Let's get out of here," Chris whispered, slowly enough for Darren to understand him, waiting until Darren shifted before he stood, stretching out his limbs and scooping up the bag of snack food and the broken cup just as the elevator doors opened with a ding and he slid his glasses onto his nose.

Darren leaned heavily on the taller man, allowing Chris to lead the way to their hotel room, only really opening his eyes long enough to watch Chris slide the key card into the slot until the door clicked open.

"More cuddles?" Darren slurred, sounding like a small, hopeful, and incredibly sleepy toddler as he rubbed at his tired eyes, removing his glasses and resting them on the nightstand between the two beds, "'cause you're not bitchy anymore?"

Chris giggled, pulling his own glasses off before he wound his arms around Darren's waist, giving him a tug until they were tumbling onto his bed. He yanked the covers over them, glancing over at the empty bed Darren was supposed to occupy while they shared this room, and he couldn't help but grin again.

"I'll cuddle you all you want if you promise not to get me stuck in an elevator _ever_ again. And you promise to come through with that massage you offered."

"Mm..." Darren nodded against Chris's chest, a sleepy grin hidden in Chris's shirt. His curls tickled the underside of Chris's chin as he clung to the other man's slender frame, "Promise. Lots'a massages, but not now. Night, now. Sleep."

"Yeah, Dare, sleep. Goodnight."

And, as he laid there, listening to Darren's breath even out as he held the shorter man in his arms, allowing his co-star to cling to him like some human-octopus hybrid, Chris shrugged his shoulders and smiled for what felt like the millionth time.

He nuzzled in closer to Darren, burying his nose in the other's product-free, unruly curls and inhaled deeply, letting the smell of Darren's weird fruity shampoo overtake his sense. He let out a content sigh, settling in for the few hours they got to sleep before they needed to return home.

He truly, honestly wasn't angry anymore, and that kind of surprised him, but it also kind of didn't.

Because, really, as it turned out... getting stuck in the stupid elevator wasn't all _that_ bad, and Chris wouldn't be too ridiculously displeased if it were to happen again... After the trauma of this event faded away, of course.

And as long as Darren was with him, anyway.

If not, the deal was totally off.


End file.
